Moonlight Reflections
by Sorchafyre
Summary: A pre-series Gojyo walks home at night, and nothing much happens. A character study.


Disclaimers and Acknowledgements: I do not own Saiyuki or its related characters, they belong to the wonderful Kazuya Minekura, I'm just sneaking onto her playground spinning on the merry-go-round. Soundtrack is Virginia Avenue and Grapefruit Moon by Tom Waits. Special thanks to Anthey for the beta. Written for Eden, because she promised fanart. If you want to see some awesome art check out www. akaibox. net

Warnings: I hope you read the summary. I meant it. NOTHING HAPPENS. This is the first posted piece I'm unsure about. Also, should the fact that there's no pairings be a warning? ::laughs::

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Gojyo strolled down the deserted, two a.m. street with his white jacket slung over his shoulder, matching contrast to his black tank top and jeans. The weather was perfect; warm with a cool breeze caressing his face, teasing strands of long red hair against his neck and cheek, raising washes of pleasurable goose bumps along his arms. It had just finished raining, leaving the world smelling fresh and clean, every reflective surface sparkling like muted jewels. 

Gojyo hated it.

The atmosphere was like a promise, an unsullied land of bright possibilities, a shining lie. There was no vow that wouldn't eventually be broken. It was stupid to have resolutions, so Gojyo never bothered with them. You guaranteed nothing and no one was hurt. Life was what it was, bland, edged, worthless, and the weather shouldn't make promises it couldn't deliver.

The clubs and bars and gambling halls were mostly closed at this time of night. A wash of light and music spilled onto the sidewalk from one of the few still open, like an offering to the darkness. Gojyo briefly considered going in for a last few rounds of cards. His luck had been good tonight; he'd won more than enough to supply him for the next few days. He knew all the cheats, of course, but rarely felt the need to use them. If you stroked Lady Luck the right way, she came to your side of the table often enough. Like a lady, though, you had to let her flirt with the other guys sometimes or she'd get restless and leave. Yeah, he won enough money to keep himself more than content most of the time. It had been months since he'd been in serious danger of going without a meal.

Gojyo despised it.

Life held no challenge; the thrill of risking something important that gave a sharp edge to the night and a power to the day. When you were risking eviction or beating with every turn of the cards, each moment was significant. What he had now was tedium, the routine tide of winning and loosing and winning again. Nothing really mattered, nothing important was in jeopardy.

Reaching the end of the town, Gojyo stopped to light a cigarette before he started up the path to his place. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he could smell the faint scent of perfume on his fingers from the woman whose bed he'd just left, a woman with the unfortunate name of Sakura. Not that there was anything wrong with the name as such, but it conjured up images of delicate and fragile beauty. Sakura apparently felt the need to live up to that. She cultivated a giggling helplessness, an airy and brainless personality which occasionally slipped to reveal flashes of an intelligent mind and sharp wit. Gojyo had no respect for people who tried to be something they weren't.

Still, she was a good lay. He never had to worry about physical satisfaction, his charm and easy manner brought him a woman whenever he needed one. They flocked to his easy banter and ready cash, a little flirting won him whichever beauty he decided he wanted, and his experience left them both sated and satisfied.

Gojyo detested it.

The encounters were empty and meaningless, ultimately unfulfilling. Simple orgasm he could get by himself, and the conquest became pointless afterward. It was too easy, they were too willing, and he was always left with a vaguely restless feeling afterward, as if there were something he was still missing.

He had walked to the end of the path, now Gojyo paused to look down at his small dwelling. When he moved he'd had the insight to realize that going into town at the beginning of the evening he would have energy and motivation for an uphill incline, but stumbling back home had better be all downhill. His place was warm and well stocked; he had everything he'd longed after when he found himself abandoned as a child. He bought what he wanted, ate when he wanted, did as he pleased.

Gojyo loathed this most of all.

The house was desperately forlorn. For all that he kept it just as he pleased, the echoes of loneliness illuminated everything. His acquaintances stayed occasionally, but it was a cold, hollow charade of companionship. He had people he knew, those he did jobs with, some he hung out with on a regular basis and called friends. They weren't really, and Gojyo knew it. People never really cared about each other, it was only a matter of convenience and surface similarity that brought them together at all.

Time moved on, because that's all it knew how to do. Tedium wore on him like grains of sand, inevitable and relentless, with no one to truly understand who and what he was. The sad thing was, it would be no different anywhere else.

It was supposed to rain again tomorrow, Gojyo thought, as he started down with a deep sigh. Another false promise by fickle nature. Maybe he'd go back into town again anyway.


End file.
